[Untitled, "On that auspicious day, when Britain's sons."]

The fairies gather to celebrate the birth of the Prince of Wales in the octosyllabic strains of Milton's L'Allegro and Il Penseroso. William Benson Earle had studied with Joseph Warton at Winchester College, which may have something to do with the romantic tenor of the poem. Upon his death in 1796, Earle bequeathed a small fortune to charity, taking particular care to fund libraries, musicians, and the arts. He seems to have been particularly fond of the musical concerts in and around Salisbury.

Samuel Austin Allibone: "William Benson Earle, 1740-1796, reprinted from a scarce pamphlet an exact Relation of the famous Earthquake and Eruption of Mount Etna, 1669, to which he added a Letter from himself to Lord Lyttelton, Lon., 1775, 8vo. Earle was a munificent benefactor to various charities in Bristol, Winchester, and Salisbury" Critical Dictionary of English Literature (1858-71; 1882) 1:539.

On that auspicious day, when Britain's sons
With suppliant voice invok'd all-gracious heav'n
For blessing on the royal babe; at eve
By pleasing contemplation led I stray'd
Where Thames nigh Windsor pours his crystal tide,
Rolling to great Augusta's citadel
The gen'rous tribute of his copious urn.
Nature thro' all her works triumphant join'd
Her joyful revels, save the silver moon;
She o'er yon eastern hill in silence seem'd
To listen, and restrain her course to hear
The universal shout of Albion's isle.
As on I mus'd in deep attention lost,
Sudden aerial sounds salute my ear,
Like such as in sweet whisp'ring accents drop
From leaves just fann'd by zephyr's softest breeze.
Trim fairy elves soon caught my wond'ring sight,
Wheeling with printless foot their airy rounds
O'er mossy bank, while glow-worm's moment lamp
Dim-twinkled thro' their clear pellucid form.
To the apt moments of their magic dance
They sang, how present at the royal birth,
Each had the tender infant form impress'd
With all that's fair and all that's beautiful.
Hark! The sweet song still strikes my ravish'd ear:

Thus sang the elfin sprights: and now the moon
Had gain'd mid heaven, when the airy crew,
Mounting the subtle texture of her beams,
Fled thro' the regions of unbounded space
To realms unvisited by mortal eye.